Читать книгу With Beatty off Jutland - Percy Francis Westerman - Страница 6

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"No such luck," protested Sefton, until, reading the serious look in the medical officer's eyes, and now conscious of a commotion on deck as the ship's company went to action stations, he started up, leapt from his bunk, and hurriedly scrambled into his clothes.

Upon gaining the deck Sefton found that Stirling had exaggerated the facts--he generally did, as a matter of fact. Just looming through the light haze were half a dozen large grey forms emitting tell-tale columns of smoke; for, combined with the lack of Welsh steam coal and inferior stoking, the Huns generally managed to betray their whereabouts by volumes of black vapour from their funnels.

The ships were now steaming in double column, line ahead, and, having left Smith's Knoll well on the starboard hand, were running on a southerly course to clear Winterton Ridge.

"Off to Yarmouth, I'll swear," declared Crosthwaite. "The bounders have got wind of the fact that our battle-cruisers are well up north."

The Calder was now approaching the two trawlers. Grasping a megaphone, the lieutenant-commander hailed the skipper of the Carse o' Gowrie.

"German battle-cruisers in sight," he shouted. "You had better slip and clear out."

The tough old Scot shaded his eyes with a hairy, tanned hand and looked in the direction of the hostile craft.

"I'll bide here, if ye have nae objection, sir," he replied. "After all this fuss, fetchin' the cable an' all, I'm nae keen on dropping it agen. Maybe they'll tak no notice of us, thinking we're fisherfolk."

"The probability is that they'll sink you," said Crosthwaite, secretly gratified at the old man's bravery, and yet unwilling to have to leave the trawlers to their fate.

"If they do, they do," replied the skipper unmoved. "It wouldna be the first by many a one. But sin' we hae the cable, here we bide."

Old Peter M'Kie was of a similar opinion. Sink or swim, he meant to stand by. The Carse o' Gowrie and the Dimpled Lassie were to remain with the fished cable, since it was just possible that the Germans might take them for ordinary trawlers, as the boats showed no guns.

The lieutenant-commander of the destroyer saw that it was of no use to attempt to shake the resolution of the two skippers. After all, they stood a chance. By remaining quietly, and riding to the raised cable, they certainly had the appearance of fishing boats using their trawl, while any attempts at flight might result in unpleasant attentions from the number of torpedo-boats accompanying the German battle-cruisers.

Accordingly the Calder slipped quietly away, keeping under the lee of the Haisborough Sands to avoid being spotted by the enemy vessels. It was a genuine case of discretion being the better part of valour. Although not a man of her crew would have blenched had orders been given to steam full speed ahead towards the huge German battle-cruisers, Crosthwaite realized that such a step would be utterly useless. Long before the destroyer could get within torpedo-range of the foe, she would be swept clean and sent to the bottom under the concentrated fire of fifty or more quick-firers. Had it been night or thick weather the Calder would no doubt have attempted to get home with her 21-inch torpedoes. The risk would be worth running. But, as matters now stood, it would be sheer suicidal madness on her part, without the faintest chance of accomplishing anything to justify the attempt.

Meanwhile the destroyer was sending out wireless messages reporting the presence of the raiders. Busy in exchanging wireless signals with their far-flung line of covering torpedo-boats, and with a couple of Zeppelins that flew high overhead, the German vessels made no attempt to "jam" the Calder's aerial warning.

Constantly ready for action at very brief notice, the British battle-squadrons were under weigh within a few minutes of the receipt of the Calder's message, and Beatty's Cat Squadron was heading south-east with all possible speed before the first hostile gun thundered against Great Yarmouth.

"They've opened the one-sided ball," remarked Sefton as a dull boom from the now invisible German ships--a single report that was quickly taken up by other heavy weapons--was borne to the ears of the Calder's crew. "And, by Jove, Whit-Monday too."

"Yes," assented the doctor. "And ten to one the beach is crowded with holiday-makers. Before we left port, didn't we see some idiotic report in the papers stating that the East Coast would be ready for holiday visitors 'as usual'?"

"Let's hope the Huns will get cut off again," said the sub. "Another Blücher or two will make them sit up."

"They're too wary," replied the somewhat pessimistic medico. "They've been warned that the coast is clear. Before the submarines from Harwich can come up they'll be off. And with twelve hours of daylight in front of them they'll be back long before our sixth destroyer flotilla can make a night attack."

For nearly twenty minutes the officers and men listened in silence to the furious bombardment. Several of the latter had homes in the town that now lay exposed to the enemy guns. Realizing their helplessness, they could only hope that the damage done was no greater than that of the previous naval attack on the same place, and that this time the Cat Squadron would intercept the raiders and exact a just and terrible retribution.

At length the firing ceased almost as suddenly as it had begun. In vain the destroyer's crew waited long and anxiously for the renewal of the cannonade in the offing that would announce the gratifying news that Beatty had once more intercepted the returning Huns.

At 20 knots the Calder returned towards the position in which she had left the two trawlers. With feelings of relief it was seen that both craft were still afloat and apparently all well.

Suddenly one of the look-outs raised the shout of: "Submarine on the starboard bow, sir!"

Without a moment's hesitation Crosthwaite telegraphed for full speed, at the same time ordering the quartermaster to port helm.

A mile and a half away could be discerned the elongated conning-tower and partly housed twin periscopes of a large submarine, although why in broad daylight the unterseeboot--for such she undoubtedly was--exposed her conning-tower above the surface was at first sight perplexing.

With the for'ard 4-inch quick-firer loaded and trained upon the meagre target the Calder leapt forward at a good 24 knots, ready at the first sign of the submerging of the submarine to send a projectile crashing into and pulverizing the thin steel plating of her conning-tower.

So intent was the lieutenant-commander upon his intended prey that he had failed to notice the proximity of a black-and-white can buoy now almost on the starboard bow. It was not until Sefton reminded him of the fact that he realized that the destroyer was doing her level best to pile herself upon the Haisborough Sands--a feat that the German submarine had already accomplished to the rage and mortification of her officers and crew.

Listing violently outwards, the destroyer swung round clear of the treacherous shoal, and for the first time Crosthwaite was aware of the ignominious predicament of the unterseeboot.

"The beggar may have a broadside torpedo-tube," he remarked to his subordinate as he ordered the Calder to be swung round, bows on to the stranded craft, speed having been reduced to give the destroyer more steerage-way. "Give her a round with the for'ard gun. Plank a shell a hundred yards astern."

The shot had the desired effect. The conning-tower hatch was thrown open, and the head and shoulders of a petty officer appeared. For a few moments he hesitated, looking thoroughly scared, then his hands were extended above his head.

In this position of surrender he remained, until, finding that the destroyer made no further attempt to shell the submarine, he emerged from the conning-tower. Two officers followed, and then the rest of the crew--twenty-two all told. The officers stood upon the steel grating surrounding the conning-tower, for the tide had now fallen sufficiently to allow the platform to show above water. The rest of the crew, wading knee-deep, formed up in a sorry line upon the after part of the still submerged hull, and, with uplifted hands, awaited the pleasure of their captors.

"Fetch 'em off, Mr. Sefton," ordered the lieutenant-commander. "Half of 'em at a time."

The sub hastened to order away the boat. As he did so Dr. Stirling nudged him and whispered in his ear:

"Shall I lend you a saw, old man?"

"A saw!" repeated Sefton in astonishment. "What on earth for?"

"Skipper said you were to bring half of them at a time," explained the irresponsible medico with a grin. "Better try the top half of each man first trip."

"That'll do, Pills," retorted the sub. "If it's surgery you're after, you had better do your own dirty work."

"Give way, lads," ordered the sub as the boat drew clear of the steel wall-side of the destroyer.

"We surrender make," declared the kapitan of the submarine as the boat ranged up alongside. "We haf a leak sprung."

"WE SURRENDER MAKE.... WE HAF A LEAK SPRUNG"]

"Sorry to hear it," rejoined Sefton.

"Is dat so?" enquired the perplexed German, mystified at his foe's solicitude.

"Yes," soliloquized the sub. "We would much rather have collared the strafed submarine intact. We didn't bargain for her keel plates being stove in.

"Now then!" he exclaimed. "I'll take eleven of you men first trip."

The coxwain and bowman of the boat deftly engaged their boat-hooks in convenient projections of the submarine's conning-tower, while the specified number of dejected and apprehensive Huns was received on board.

Having delivered the first batch of prisoners on the destroyer, Sefton returned, but, instead of immediately running alongside the prize, he ordered his men to lie on their oars. With the boat drifting at a distance of twenty yards from the unterseeboot, the sub coolly awaited developments.

The Huns--officers and men alike--were far from cool. Gesticulating wildly, they implored the sub to take them off. Never before had Sefton seen a greater anxiety on the part of the Germans to abandon their ship, and in the course of eleven months' service in the North Sea his knowledge of the ways of the wily Hun was fairly extensive.

At length two of the submarine's crew, unable to restrain their panic, leapt overboard and struck out for the boat.

"Stand by with a stretcher, there, Jenkins," ordered Sefton. "Show them what we mean to do. Knock them over the knuckles if they attempt to grasp the gunwale."

"We surrender do, kamerad!" shouted the Huns in dolorous chorus, seeing their companions repelled from the waiting boat.

"Yes, I know," replied Sefton. "You've told me that already. A few minutes' wait won't hurt you. There's plenty of time."

"Back oars!" ordered the sub, as the Germans, terrified beyond measure, slid from the submarine's deck into the water, officers and men striking out frantically.

Thirty seconds later came the dull muffled sound of an explosion. A thin wreath of vapour issued from the open conning-tower.

"Not much of a bust-up that," exclaimed Sefton contemptuously. "It would not have flicked a fly from her deck. Well, I suppose I must take the beggars into the boat."

The lightness of the explosion had also astonished the German officers. Adopting their usual procedure they had fixed three detonators in the hull of the stranded vessel, and upon the approach of the Calder's boat the second time they had lighted the four-minute time-fuses.

Sefton, guessing rightly what had been done, had resolved to give the Huns, not a bad quarter of an hour, but a worse three minutes. He, too, expected to see the submarine's hull disintegrated by a terrific explosion.

On the boat's return to the destroyer with the rest of the prisoners, Sefton made his report to the lieutenant-commander.

"Can't blame them," declared Crosthwaite. "In similar circumstances we would have done the same, but with better results, I hope. Send that petty officer aft; I want to speak to him."

The man indicated was, as luck would have it, the fellow responsible for lighting the fuses. Putting on his fiercest expression, Lieutenant-Commander Crosthwaite sternly taxed him with attempting to destroy the submarine after she had surrendered.

Taken aback, the man admitted that it was so.

"How many detonators?" asked Crosthwaite.

"Three, Herr Kapitan."

"And what time-fuses?"

"Four-minutes," was the reply.

"Then jolly rotten stuff," commented the lieutenant-commander as he motioned for the prisoner to be removed below. "We'll give them another quarter of an hour before we board her."

The stated time passed without any signs of further internal explosions. The Calder made good use of the interval, Harwich being communicated with by wireless, announcing the capture of the prize, and requesting tugs and lighters to be dispatched to assist the disabled U boat into port.

"Now I think it's all O.K.," remarked Crosthwaite. "Sure you're keen on the job?"

Sefton flushed under his tanned skin. His skipper was quick to notice that he had blundered.

"Sorry!" he said apologetically. "Ought to have jolly well known you better. Off you go, and good luck. By the by, take a volunteer crew."

Of the seventy men of the Calder every one would have unhesitatingly followed the sub. Asking for volunteers for a hazardous service was merely a matter of form. There was quite a mild contest to take part in the operations of boarding the submarine.

By this time the falling tide had left nearly the whole extent of the deck dry. There were four hatchways in addition to the conning-tower, each of which was securely fastened. Through the open aperture in the conning-tower Sefton made his way. Below all was in darkness, for with the explosion the electric lamps had been extinguished. A heavy reek of petrol fumes and sulphurous smoke scented the confined space.

The sub switched on the electric torch which he had taken the precaution to bring with him. The rays barely penetrated the smoke beyond a few feet.

"Phew!" he muttered. "Too jolly thick. It is a case for a smoke-helmet."

Back went the boat, returning in a short space of time with the required article. Donning the safety-helmet, one of the bluejackets descended, groped his way to the nearest hatchway and opened it.

An uninterrupted current of fresh air ensued, and in ten minutes the midship portion of the prize was practically free from noxious fumes.

"Blow me, Nobby," exclaimed one of the carpenter's crew, "did you ever see such a lash up? Strikes me they slung this old hooker together in a bit of a hurry."

The shipwright's contemptuous reference to the Teuton constructor's art was justified. The submarine had every appearance of being roughly built in sections and bolted together. Everything pointed to hurried and makeshift work.

Under the engine beds Sefton discovered two unexploded detonators. The one that had gone off was "something of a dud", for the explosive force was very feeble--insufficient even to start any of the hull plating. But it had performed a useful service to the British prize crew: the blast had detached the time-fuses from the remaining gun-cotton charges, and had thus preserved the submarine from total destruction.

Nevertheless Sefton heaved a sigh of relief as the two detonators were dropped overboard. Guncotton, especially German-made stuff, was apt to play peculiar tricks.

The fore and after compartments or sub-divisions of the hull were closed by means of watertight doors in the bulkheads. The foremost was found to have four feet of water--the same depth as that of the sea over the bank on which the vessel had stranded. It was here that the plates had been started when the U boat made her unlucky acquaintance with the Haisborough Shoal.

Flashing his torch upon the oily surface of the water, Sefton made a brief examination. On either side of the bulging framework were tiers of bunks. This compartment, then, was the sleeping-quarters of the submarine's crew. Of torpedo-tubes there were no signs; nor were these to be found anywhere else on board. Aft was a "gantry" communicating with an ingeniously contrived air-lock. The submarine was not designed for torpedo work but for an even more sinister task: that of mine-laying. Not a single globe of latent destruction remained on board. Already the U boat had sown her crop of death; would there be time to destroy the harvest?